


Cigarettes and mint

by thrynn



Category: Lupin III
Genre: M/M, boner mention LOL...., just soft things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thrynn/pseuds/thrynn
Summary: Lupin could let his guard down a little if Jigen was there, magnum in hand. After the heists, he was there too, when everyone else was off spending loot or meditating--or licking their wounds. Jigen and him remained together in the fallout. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him, hopping from hideout to hideout, eating together, drinking together, going to bed together, waking up together. The everyday trivialities. But it never seemed quite trivial to Lupin. Everyone needed a bit of constancy now and then, Lupin was no exception.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III
Comments: 10
Kudos: 85





	Cigarettes and mint

Paris glittered impressively, cool and damp after a refreshing rainfall, the slick stone pathways reflected the lights of the shops and stars. Lovers sat close together on benches, whispering to each other, or kissing openly under the now clear skies. Yes, it was the kind of night a romantic lived for, yet Lupin found himself walking back to the apartment hideout, alone, hands tucked in his pockets. 

He paused to light a cigarette, trying not to look jaded as he slipped past another row of occupied benches. There were probably tourists lingering about, tourists that would have been more than willing to experience one night of passion (eagerly looking for one, in fact, the city of love did that to most) but Lupin found he wasn’t up for it, not even a half-hearted hookup in one of the lively open bars. 

The apartment was down a maze of small historic back streets, easy enough for a certain small yellow Fiat to go barrelling down, no problem, but trickier for, say the wider frame of a police car. He fumbled for keys and dragged his feet up the steps of the two floor building. It wasn’t that late and he didn’t exactly expect anyone to be around--still, he wasn’t surprised to see Jigen lounging on the couch, cigarette dangling between his lips, mindlessly loading and unloading his magnum while an old football match droned idly on the TV.

“Rough night?” Jigen peeked through his hat at him as he shrugged off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door. 

“What gave you that idea?” Lupin said airily as ever with a wave of his hand, stepping into the kitchen.

“You don’t usually walk that heavily up the stairs unless...” Jigen paused, smoke drifting lazily out of his nostrils, “You struck out with Fujiko?”

“You need to stop analyzing my footsteps,” Lupin said, opening the fridge, “If you keep noticing me that much, I’m going to start getting romantic notions~”

“So I was right,” Jigen chuckled to himself, “Don’t take it too hard, the odds weren’t exactly in your favor.”

“The odds are always in my favor,” Lupin said, unable to curb the edge to his voice. There was nothing in the fridge but a few cans of beer and a leftover carton of chinese food.

“Ha! Not when it comes to women.”

“Oy! Would it kill you to replenish the fridge once in a while?” Lupin said, eager to change the subject.

“Don’t get mad at  _ me _ ,” Jigen tsked, “Check the counter.”

Lupin glanced up at a cardboard box, unopened. “For me? I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be, I was fully expecting you to come crawling back with your tail between your legs.”

“Funny,” Lupin hummed, “I’ve heard what’s between my legs called many things, but a tail isn’t one of them.”

“Think you’re cute, don’t you?” Jigen snorted, tilting his hat back over his eyes.

“So are you committed to this game, or can I watch something else?”

“It’s a free country, do whatever you want.” Jigen said, lifting his legs so Lupin could slide onto the couch beside him.

Inside the box, a generous face-sized galette waited for him, a bed of roasted tomatoes and spinach nestled under an egg with a fat orange yolk. “Wow, how sweet,” Lupin said, “I should strike out with Fujiko more often if it means Jigen-chan will treat me to supper~”

“If only you meant that,” Jigen said with a crooked smile. 

“Galettes,” Lupin said, taking a bite. He couldn’t quite hold back a little whimper of delight. Damn  _ good  _ galettes, too! Not surprising, Jigen had good taste when he wanted to. “I take it this means you’ve been canvassing the neighborhood?”

“Yup, I figured you’d ask.”

“When’d you learn to read my mind, Jigen?”

“Please, if I could read your mind, I’d have left ages ago.” Jigen said, bumping his knee so the galette box in Lupin’s lap jolted.

Lupin glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow, “Somehow I really doubt that.”

A look flickered in and out of Jigen’s eyes, so quick, if Lupin had blinked, he might have missed it. Jigen crossed his ankles obnoxiously across Lupin’s lap so he had to move the galette box, at the risk of spilling it over himself.

“So what’s next on the docket?” Jigen asked, spinning the cylinder of his magnum.

“I don’t know, nothing’s stood out to me yet. Goemon’s back in Japan, and Fujicakes…” He couldn’t help the little sigh that came after her name, “She’s out.”

“Go after a gem and she’ll come running back, I guarantee it.” Jigen shrugged.

“I’m tired of lifting rocks from old rich guys, that’s not really my scene.”

“Yeah, we never seem to hold on to any of that sort of loot for long.” There was a note of bitterness, there.

Lupin took another bite, thoughtful, “So, what would  _ you  _ steal, Jigen-chan?”

Jigen’s eyes darted up from his magnum, meeting his, “You’re asking  _ me _ ?”

“Sure, I’m fresh out of ideas.”

Jigen rolled the cigarette to the other side of his mouth in thought, “Well--”

\---

Several nights later, the sound of sirens shrieked through the night, blue lights arching over walls and shop corners as several police cars bumped and screeched down a side street.

Lupin and Jigen stood shoulder to shoulder, pressed flat against a wall into a back alley, both of them panting openly. 

“All of this for a round of bullets?” Lupin wheezed, looking over at Jigen, unable to hide the grin of excitement that always accompanied a good chase.

“Not just any bullets,” Jigen said, pulling the narrow black holding box out of his coat pocket, “Gold bullets, blessed by the pope.”

Lupin gave a hysterical giggle, “I guess we’re already bound for hell anyway. Don’t use them all up at once.”

Jigen made a face, “They aren’t for me, I can’t load em into my magnum.”

Lupin’s smile faltered slightly, “Yeah, so what’d you want them for?”

Jigen shrugged, “Did I need a good reason?”

“Are you serious?” Lupin erupted into another fit of chuckling and Jigen cracked a grin and was soon joining him with his familiar bark of laughter. “You’re a crazy bastard, do y’know that?”

“Then we’re the perfect match,” Jigen winked, still shaking with laughter.

There was a clatter, the frantic steps of someone in boots. Lupin didn’t need three guesses to figure out who would come nosing down the streets after the police cars had gone screaming by. 

Lupin leapt over Jigen, silencing his snickering with his hand, quieting his own breathing. Their shadows were safely concealed in the alley, the sound of footfall only paused a moment before continuing down the street.

Lupin could feel Jigen’s breath against his hand. His shoulders finally relaxed and he looked back at Jigen, who awkwardly pushed his hand off his face.

“Close one,” Lupin winked.

“What’s gotten into you? You don’t have to protect me, I’m no Fujiko,” Jigen mumbled.

“Fujiko with a beard, I’ll have to think about that more later.” He swallowed a laugh, “Sorry~ Force of habit?” He was only dizzily realizing his position now. One elbow on Jigen’s shoulder, his hand splayed on the wall just over his partner’s hat--the other arm bent almost possessively over him, hand on his chest since Jigen had shoved it away from his mouth.

They were both still simmering from that familiar post-heist high. Lupin could see Jigen’s throat bob as he swallowed, the ends of his beard almost close enough to tickle his skin. He was overwhelmed by the familiar stinging scent of Jigen’s beard oil and gunpowder mixed with the usual smoky overlayer of cigarette smoke.

“Oh ho~ Is that the magnum in your pocket or are you just excited to be this close to me?” Lupin grinned.

“Ha, ha.” Jigen said coolly, “Don’t flatter yourself, it’ll take more than being pressed against you to get me excited.”

“Oh, so you’re saying I  _ could  _ get you excited, then?” Lupin teased, taking an uncharacteristically clumsy step backward.

“Sure,” Jigen shrugged, “And I’m sure I could get you hot and bothered just as easy.”

“Wanna bet?”

“You’ll lose,” Jigen said, eyebrows arching.

Who knows what impulse it was, a giddy lurch spurred on by competitiveness or maybe it really was the adrenaline pounding like blood in his ears--or even perhaps the fact that Jigen was still so close and so warm against him, a hair’s breadth away, chest heaving against his.

Did that mean Lupin was the one that was hot and bothered? 

He didn’t really think about it, his lips crashed against Jigen’s. Jigen’s lips were rough and warm against his, stiff for a moment in surprise, but just a moment.

Lupin leaned into it, pushing Jigen more firmly against the brick wall behind them, his thigh brushing and then pushing against--it really was the magnum. He could feel the curve of the handle, the cylinder. Damn it. 

It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d locked lips with Jigen, adrenaline and near death experiences did strange things to anyone, but this felt a little different somehow. He let go, losing himself in the familiar musk of Jigen’s cologne and sweat. One hand drifting up, clutching the lapels of Jigen’s coat. 

They were out of breath, but neither quite ready to end the kiss, so they gasped, breaths hot and wet, mouths hovering just over the other’s. Jigen hissed out a sigh when Lupin nipped along his jaw. The stiff texture of Jigen’s beard marked Lupin’s lips with a pleasant sting. Jigen’s fingers glanced over Lupin’s ear, and Lupin kissed him again. Jigen tilted his head, forgoing the usual game and deepening the kiss impatiently. He tasted, predictably, like cigarettes, and, less predictably, also like mint. 

The kiss devolved into a needy thing, Jigen pulled him closer, their bodies flush together. Breaking the kiss again to breathe raggedly, Jigen ran his fingers back through Lupin’s hair, sending pleasant tingles down his spine. Lupin swallowed a moan and Jigen flashed a smile.

“Alright, you win, bucko,” He sighed.

Lupin felt dazed, “Huh? I win…?” 

“I’m sufficiently teased, but I don’t feel like hooking up with you right next to a dumpster.”

“Not romantic enough for you?” The warmth between them cruelly wrenched away when Jigen sidestepped out of his arms. “Hey!” Lupin whined, “...Wait a minute!”

“We don’t got a minute, Pops is bound to circle back this way.” He bent over and tossed a motorbike helmet at Lupin, who caught it automatically, “You driving?”

“Why don’t you.” Lupin said, a little gloomily.

The motorbike was wedged between said dumpsters. Lupin swung his leg over the saddle seat, lips still buzzing with the kiss. It wasn’t like Jigen was driving that fast, he didn’t bend the curves of the street and lurch over the speedbumps like Lupin would have, but Lupin found himself holding on tight as they rounded a corner, taking the long way back to the hideout. 

They switched the motorbike for the Fiat, Lupin tossed Jigen the keys as he stuffed some clothes in a bag and they were off to a second hideout in the backhills beyond Paris, just in case Pops got wise to them.

The Fiat rumbled over the cobblestones, avoiding the wider streets. Both of them were on alert for sirens or the familiar shape of pursuing vehicles, trying to act pedestrian. Jigen driving made more sense, he was more likely to follow the traffic laws, less likely to get pulled over or draw any attention.

There was something peaceful about Jigen driving, anyway. 

When they’d come across the Fiat, years ago, nestled in a used car lot, Lupin’s head was full of ideas of all the add ons. Jigen was simply charmed by the novelty of an old classic Italian car. Jigen was the only other person that drove their car, Goemon never even got to ride shotgun. It had taken a solid month’s work to get the engine back up and running, and a few more months of tinkering until they had all the extra odds and upgrades Lupin had in mind. 

In between heists, they’d worked on it, Jigen and him. The constant hiss of Jigen’s swears when the wiring went wrong, handing Lupin this part and that wrench while he was flat on his back underneath the car, tinkering.

He’d fallen asleep many times while Jigen drove, and vice versa, come to think of it, though Jigen was more apt to complain about his neck afterward. They’d been across Europe more times than he could count, their shoulders bumping as they went. Jigen was always there, solid, constant, ready for whatever. 

That in itself was a pleasant thought, Lupin mused, letting his head be jostled from the headrest to Jigen’s broad shoulder. Lupin didn’t really like change. There was a predictability and order to things, as chaotic as heists could get. Goemon could always be counted on to slice and cut when needed--Fujiko was  _ always  _ there to benefit and beguile, to tease and bow out. Pops could always be counted on to try and dissect and dismantle the whole thing, to be at their heels, shrill as a terrier. And Jigen was always there, covering his back with the sharpest eye and steadiest hand. 

Lupin could let his guard down a little if Jigen was there, magnum in hand. After the heists, he was there too, when everyone else was off spending loot or meditating--or licking their wounds. Jigen and him remained together in the fallout. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him, hopping from hideout to hideout, eating together, drinking together, going to bed together, waking up together. The everyday trivialities. But it never seemed quite trivial to Lupin. Everyone needed a bit of constancy now and then, Lupin was no exception.

He felt the car roll to a stop, shoulders jerking as he realized he’d actually dozed off.

“What is it?” He said sleepily.

A quiet string of profanities.

Lupin laughed, “I’m up, where are we?”

“Took a wrong turn, I think. Where’s the friggin map? Hold on.”

Lupin chuckled, opening the car door to stretch his legs. They were really out in the sticks now, nothing but barns, wide rolling fields, the sky was gauzy with clouds tonight. He lit a cigarette, puffing meditatively. 

Jigen was soon at his side, shoulders tense. Lupin offered him a light and he leaned toward it, sucking through the filter. Lupin forced his eyes to roll the other way, so they weren’t trained on Jigen’s lips. He was grateful for the cool breeze outside, his face had gone hot. He resisted the urge to touch his own lips, where the ghost of Jigen’s kiss lingered, in his mind anyway.

“You’ve no idea where we are,” He grinned, pushing that thought aside.

Jigen glanced at him and shrugged, “My French isn’t as good as yours--I didn’t expect you to be snoring away when we passed city limits. Now I’m too tired to figure it out.”

“We could sleep in the back of the fiat,” Lupin offered. 

Jigen huffed on his cigarette, “Sure, that’ll do wonders for my back. Why don’t you take over, you know France like the back of your hand anyway, right?”

“Sure, sure.”

The detour cost them an hour. Lupin didn’t know France like the back of his hand, but after some aimless driving, Jigen’s guilty huffing fading as he dozed against the cold window. Eventually there was a sign Lupin recognized and then they were on their way. The time lost didn’t matter, these slow days of just the two of them, he could be greedy with it. 

When they reached the village of the sought-after second hideout, the grey, quiet stillness before dawn had descended over them. It was almost eerie to be awake this early, like stumbling across an abandoned town. Mist settled like a veil over the cobblestone streets and tables set outside cafes, chairs up for the night. Lupin parked a block or so away from the apartment, the Fiat was still sort of a giveaway.

Jigen grouched at him to pull the disguise cover over it, eyes shadowed with poor sleep.

He was so tired, he walked with a sort of weave, constantly brushing against Lupin. Lupin ignored the impulse to reach out and grab his hand, Jigen had a grouchy look in his eye that suggested it would not be welcome.

When they reached the apartment building, Jigen was too tired to figure out the ring of keys in his pocket for his own flat. Getting two apartments was just a safety measure anyway, in case one was compromised, the other was a quick fix to figure things out and regroup before fleeing. 

They crept up the steps to Lupin’s place on the second floor. Neither of their steps were heavy, even though they were both tired. The adrenaline had finally sapped away from their bones, replaced by weariness.

“I’ll take the couch,” Jigen said, voice gruff with fatigue.

“Nah--what about your back, old man? My bed’s more than big enough for both of us.”

Jigen adjusted his hat, fixing Lupin with a look, chewing on his unlit half-smoked cigarette.

“What’s that look! Don’t tell me you’re shy!?” Lupin said with a chuckle, “It’s not like we’ve never shared a bed, ya geezer.”

“Yeah, yeah, let me rinse my face.” Jigen said, heading to the bathroom.

“Wow, should I be expecting anything exciting,” Lupin waggled his eyebrows.

Jigen leaned around the corner, “A kick in the head if you keep that up.”

It felt good to take his suit jacket off, strip down to his boxers, the sheets cool and clean as he’d left them. He curled on his side, willing himself to stay awake against the comforting lull of his pillow.

“Would have been nice if you grabbed some of my clothes, too,” Jigen grumped. He was wearing a pair of Lupin’s boxers, one of his undershirts, his beard dripping a little from the sink.

“Oops, sorry. At least they’re clean.” Lupin said, shrugging, “I  _ think _ .”

“You’re insufferable.” Jigen said, but he was smirking. His eyes were always fond, even if he acted like Lupin was annoying him. He set the box of golden bullets on the bedside table.

“I forgot to set out the thick blankets when we were here last,” Lupin yawned, with mock disappointment, “Not sure where they are and I don’t feel like digging around for them, so I guess we’ll have to huddle together for warmth.”

“Oh boy,” Jigen said, settling on the other side of him. He yanked up the sheets anyway.

“You wouldn’t want me to catch hypothermia,” Lupin said, wiggling towards him, letting his voice waver dramatically.

Jigen’s face pressed into the back of Lupin’s neck, sending a violent shiver down his spine, even though he was expecting it. The soft bristles of his beard scratched against his shoulder. 

“That’s right, couldn’t have that,” Jigen muttered, his breath vibrating deliciously over Lupin’s skin, the little hairs on his neck standing at attention.

Yes, best that Jigen was the big spoon--it was the way Lupin preferred sleeping with someone else, anyway--but it wouldn’t have been any fun if Jigen knew his Walther P38 wasn’t tucked away in his boxers to blame whatever was going on in his pants. Jigen’s arms were solid and warm, wrapped around Lupin’s middle.

Legs tangled as they both stretched and squirmed for the best position for both of them, it didn’t take long. Neither would admit it, but the position was familiar to them both. 

Finally, Jigen sighed into Lupin’s shoulder and it was mere moments before his breath began to slow into the cadence of sleep. Lupin couldn’t help but match his breathing, by habit. He could feel Jigen’s heart, thudding against his back--but Lupin’s was still fluttering a little. Laying there, Jigen’s familiar breath tickling his ear, back warmed against him, Lupin drifted to sleep too, the kiss in the alleyway still tickling away in his mind--a stray thought turning, like a loose cog in an otherwise expertly maintained machine.


End file.
